


Paper Court

by icarus (aurai)



Series: War of Misunderstandings -- Rewritten [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cardtalia, Cardverse, Human Names Used, Multi, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-09 17:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10417404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurai/pseuds/icarus
Summary: Alfred is touring the White House for a college research paper when he stumbles upon a door that leads him to Cards. While there, he has to struggle to chose between finding his way home or staying to lead a country on the brink of war... and staying with the one who's captured his heart.(Rewritten from Paper Crowns.)





	1. One: Washington, DC

Alfred F. Jones was a twenty three year old in his senior year of college, and he’d lived in every single state in America except for one. If, technically speaking, Washington, D.C. could be considered a separate state. It was more of a province. Officially, a federal district.

In any case, he’d never lived there. So when his historic studies professor mentioned the opportunity in class one day, Alfred had hastened to scribble down a note in his planner and made straight for the woman directly after class.

He’d said these words exactly: “Professor, did you say something about a trip to D.C?” and she’d laughed.

“Yes, I did. I take it you’re interested? Keeping in mind, of course, that this is a research project and you’ll have a summative assignment to report to me at the end.”

Alfred had only momentarily balked at the fact. Before too long, he was laden with thick packets of forms to sign, information, and instructions - how to buy plane tickets, what to pack, and the like. He handed all the forms, properly signed, into his professor the next day during office hours.

He would be living in D.C. for two entire weeks. Enough for him to properly claim that he, Alfred F. Jones, had lived in every single state in the United States of America. Including the small area of land located between Virginia and Maryland consequently designated as the federal District of Columbia.

He wasn’t the only one interested in going, as it turned out. The school had enough funds to send three students on the trip, provided that they supply some of their own money and found their own meals. The other two were both girls, named Catie and Olivia. Alfred had a sneaking suspicion that they only signed up for the trip after they found out that he was going. Apparently, they were just lucky enough to be the first - or perhaps the pushiest - of the girls outside Professor Lowell's room.

The idea that some students actually interested in the project might have missed out saddened Alfred, but he didn’t linger on it. He would have to figure out how to get the entire project done with the two girls hanging onto his arms.

The further he got into the trip, the more anxious Alfred felt. He didn’t know what was making him so stressed - only that his heart was twisting and his chest was slowly squeezing his lungs out of air. The tension came to a head on the day when the three students were scheduled to visit the White House itself.

It wasn’t due to anything that Alfred could tell. Until he got there. The White House. Something about it was calling him, pulling him in. He became less and less focused on the notes he should’ve been taking for the write up and more so on following that incessant tug. He found himself wandering once, but he only woke up from the trance when a pair of security guards ran down the hallway after him, guiding him back to the group. He apologized profusely - and promptly swayed as a dizzy spell overtook him. He was escorted to a restroom so that he could puke under supervision. When he finally emerged from the stall, the guard was looking quite queasy. After taking one glance towards Alfred, he dove into an adjacent stall and began throwing up himself.

“Sorry, man,” Alfred offered lamely. There was no response. And as the pulling feeling was beginning to nag at the back of his mind, Alfred took the opportunity to duck out of the restroom and head off down the hallway he’d wandered to before. This time, nobody followed him.

At the end of the hallway were two doors - one labeled with a glowing EXIT sign, and one labeled: off limits to all excepting the current president of the united states of america.

To be funny, Alfred tried the knob.

It turned. The door swung open.

Alfred looked around. There were no cameras that he could see pointed down this hallway. There were no people walking by. For the briefest moment, he thought he saw something move. He jumped through the door and shut it swiftly and softly behind him.

Lights flickered overhead - simple white strips barring across the ceiling. The walls, the floor, were all made of faded, cracked concrete. Alfred’s footsteps echoed faster and faster and his heartbeat seemed to match the exponentially increasing rate. Alfred let out a soft huff of disbelieving laughter. He never thought he would need algebra other than for schooling.

He found a single door on the other side of the hallway and pushed through it into a circular stone room.

Legitimate stone, not concrete. The floors were tiled, but the walls seemed made of actual, rough, stone. A single wooden bench sat to the side of the room. Directly opposite from Alfred was a huge set of solid, gorgeous wooden doors.

They deserved to be at the forefront of a church, Alfred thought. No, a cathedral. They were carved with all sorts of decorative designs and symbols that could be runes or hieroglyphs, or something else altogether. Alfred sighed in relief - cliche as it was, he felt that a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He stepped forward and threw the doors open wide, though they were heavy. He had the slight afterthought to close them behind himself, but only barely managed to accomplish that before his knees buckled in another dizzy spell. He managed to catch himself on the wall, and moments later he was recovered as spritely as ever.

More spritely, as Alfred discovered. He straightened, stretched, and blinked, drawing in a deep, fulfilling breath. Something had changed. He felt stronger, more limber, more active. Something in his very veins buzzed, sending small sparks throughout his body. Alfred felt the immense satisfaction of, at last, ridding his chest of the pulling sensation from earlier. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.

Alfred continued forward, through another small door on the other side of the room and down a narrow set of stairs. He emerged from the bottom into a large chamber, decorated lavishly with comfortable looking couches, rugs, and armchairs. A small fire crackled in a large fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed to the bursting with all sorts of books, scrolls, and decorations. There were no other sources of light, disregarding the open door on the other side of the room. After taking a moment to poke around a bit, Alfred headed toward it.

He was stopped short about five feet from the door as a peculiar scent was registered in his system. His body responded immediately - he tensed, inhaled once more, and fell back panting slightly, eyes half lidded. In less than two seconds, Alfred somehow sported an unfortunately timed hard-on.

Voices echoed from beyond the open doorway, but Alfred was too distracted to do anything regarding avoiding them. He leaned on the nearest side table for support. At the sight of motion in his peripheral vision, he looked up.

Two people stood outside the room, looking upon him in startled suspicion. Alfred didn’t get much farther than that in his analysis of the pair before he was moving forward, instinctively - he went for the one that smelled better, that smelled right and absolutely heavenly. It seemed like only a moment and an eternity before he had the man pressed deliciously between his own body and the wall behind him. He dug his nose into the crook of the man’s neck and inhaled deeply. The man let out an indignant noise but somehow didn’t struggle. Alfred noted contently that the man was shorter than him, his stature somewhat smaller. Their bodies fit so perfectly together - 

However, the other was not so slow to regain his wits. Alfred was dragged back viciously by the hair and slapped across the face so hard his vision blacked out. Before he could recover he found his head slamming painfully against the wall. He let out a grunt of pain and crumpled to the ground.

Above his harried breathing he heard the voices of one of the people above him. The assault stopped, though the ringing in his head did not - it took a good minute for that to fade. When Alfred finally found it in himself to move, he felt something hot trickle down his temple. Blood, most likely. He had been hit hard. Normally he wasn’t so easy to take down. Although, he did admit, normally he wasn’t distracted by a stranger with a strangely potent and enchanting scent.

Alfred looked up with bleary eyes and found that his glasses had been knocked askew. He retrieved them slowly and blinked as his eyes painfully refocused.

“I think I deserved that one,” he groaned. “I’m sorry, I have no idea what came over me.” As he took in a breath to continue speaking, Alfred was forced to cover his nose with his hand.

His attacker approached him. For a brief moment, Alfred nearly thought that the person was a girl - a slight frame, delicate face, and long, silky ponytail led him to this conclusion. However, it was soon made quite clear that this was not the case.

“This area is off limits,” he spoke. He had some unfamiliar accent Alfred couldn’t define - he only knew it was foreign. 

The man continued. “You could be killed for assaulting our queen.”

“Queen?” Alfred questioned. His eyes slid to the other man - the one he had attacked. He was red-faced, breathing hard, and glaring down at Alfred with thick eyebrows and an indignant posture. He was incredibly cute - though it was disappointing that his scent now seemed to be obscured by the man closer to him.

“Yao, something is wrong,” the man said, frowning. His accent was most obviously british. His face loosened - it now seemed that he was more curious than angry. “Look at him. He does not know where he is, or who we are.”

Yao - if that was the man’s name - looked him over again. Alfred reached up to his forehead, carefully prodding at the source of the blood.

Yao slapped his hand away. Alfred hissed and cradled his stinging hand to himself.

“Look, I’m sorry for intruding. I know I’m not supposed to be here, okay? But I don’t think you’re allowed to be here either, judging from the sign on the door.”

The other man came forward, scowling. “What are you talking about? What sign?”

Alfred looked between the two, incredulous. “You had to have seen the sign. The one that says ‘no one allowed except the president’?”

Yao glanced at his companion. “The president?”

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh, bollocks. He is from the other world.”

Alfred startled, confused. “The other world? What are you talking about, I just walked through some doors to get here -”

“That must be why he… approached me so harshly,” the man continued, ignoring Alfred. “He has not… My name is Arthur. I will help you back to where you were.” This last bit was directed to Alfred. 

Alfred reached out to take the hand offered to him, but the moment he was pulled upwards he was again overcome by the strange, warm scent of Arthur. He was forced to cover his nose again and stumble away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice muffled. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with me.”

Arthur’s face took on a slightly more sympathetic expression. “Do not worry. You will not have to deal with this much longer. I will show you the way back.”

“I think I know how to get back from here,” Alfred said. “There aren’t really any options - you just keep going through doors and hallways and rooms.”

“Nevertheless, I will guide you,” Arthur insisted. “Yao, accompany us.”

Yao inclined his head. So the three set off back to the tour. Alfred still didn’t know if these two men had any more authority than he did to be in this area, but he decided it unwise to protest further. Yao seemed well trained enough in combat.

Alfred took this opportunity to examine the men more - and he realized that he had missed something very odd about them. They both wore strange, unusual clothes, all dyed in shades of blue. After catching Yao’s eyes on him, however, he decided not to comment.

The trio faced a bit of a problem as they worked their way back to the hallway where Alfred had left the bathroom. The huge, wooden doors had completely vanished, and they exited the claustrophobic staircase into a circular, dead ended, room.

Arthur looked shocked. “The doors are gone,” he said.

Yao seemed troubled as well. “Why is this happening?” he asked - though it was more of a statement than a question. “The doors would only have shifted if another had come through after him.”

Alfred wasn’t following the conversation. “Woah, hey,” he said, drawing two pairs of eyes to him. “Doors like that couldn’t just disappear. They were solid wood, man.”

Yao responded snappily. “Yes, man, they are. They are also solid magic. They move as they please.”

“According to rules,” Arthur amended.

“According to rules,” Yao accepted.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his light hair. Alfred decided against responding to the earlier remarks due to how weary Arthur seemed. After a moment, the man spoke again.

“I suppose I will need to explain a few things to you, then,” he said. “What is your name?”

“Alfred,” he responded. “Alfred Jones, that is. Am I going to be arrested?”

Arthur looked confused, but mostly tired. “No, no… we are simply going to discuss your situation. Let us proceed to your study, Yao. I believe I left my tea there, and I am going to need it for this.”

Alfred followed the two back to the room he had met them in and then further, into a equally as decorated common room that contained many doorways, most of them open. One in particular was where they headed for. Once inside, Arthur shut the door and settled himself at a fancy wooden desk.

Yao’s study seemed like it was part library, part chemistry lab, part lounge. There was an eclectic collection of bookshelves, vials and plants and boiling pots, desks of all shape and size, couches, chairs, and large windows. Alfred took care not to touch anything as he followed Arthur to the desk.

“You might as well sit,” Arthur said, gesturing to one of the more comfortable looking chairs. “It will likely take a while to explain everything, given the human mind’s tendency to deny truths.”

Alfred wasn’t completely sure how to respond to that statement. As he sat in silence, Yao disappeared among the rows of his bookshelves.

Arthur drew his attention back by speaking.

“There are two major things you will need to grow accustomed to here,” Arthur said. “One is the fact that you are now in Cards, a world completely separate from your own, and that we in Cards have a completely different political system than your world. The other is that our biology is also different than yours, and it seems that, after spending time in this world, your biology is responding to match ours.”

Alfred blinked and took a breath. Arthur was silent as he processed the information he’d been given.

“Question,” Alfred stated. “Actually, two questions.”

Arthur sighed. “Inevitable,” he muttered. “Ask away.”

“One, how much is my biology changing, and what is it changing to,” Alfred asked. He saw a flicker of surprise in Arthur’s eyes, but pressed on. “And two, how can I find those doors again and get back home?”

Arthur seemed uncertain of how to respond. Finally, he worked out a small series of his own queries: “What, no startled protestations? No asking, hysterically, why? How could this be possible?”

Alfred shrugged. “I believe in aliens,” he said. That was all he offered by way of explanation. In truth, he didn’t quite understand himself how easy it was to accept Arthur’s word as fact. It seemed right. He might as well go along with it.

Arthur took a breath and spoke again after a moment. 

“You asked about our biology,” he said. “Correct me if I am wrong, but after observing your behavior, I have concluded that you are unfamiliar with the alpha-beta-omega system?”

Alfred wrinkled his brow and leaned forward in his seat. “I don't get it. Aren't those, like, Greek letters or something? What does that have to do with biology?”

“The words seem to be used in a wide range of settings,” Arthur said. “Allow me to explain further. In our society, there exist three biological classes that are completely separate from the male and female sexes. I believe that in your society, whether one has male or female genitalia determines whether or not they can mate. Is that correct?”

“Mate? Does that mean, like… have babies?”

Arthur sighed. “Technically, yes.”

“Then yeah, I think that’s right.”

“Good. In Cards, this is not the case.”

Alfred interrupted, causing Arthur to startle and glare at him. “Hang on, so girls can’t get knocked up by guys?” He asked.

“It depends,” Arthur responded tersely. He swept his hair from his eyes impatiently. “Omegas and betas are the only classes that can get pregnant - alphas can not.”

“Even if they’re male?” Alfred asked. “Even if the alphas are female - they just can’t get pregnant?”

“It is somewhat less common for a male body to accept a pregnancy,” Arthur explained. “In order for them to support a human body, they essentially have to grow a… a uterus. I have been told that this process in itself, in extreme cases, can be nearly as painful as birthing a child.”

Alfred blinked in horror. Arthur’s face was slightly flushed, from embarrassment, likely, but he held Alfred’s eyes steadily. Alfred found himself focusing more on the shade of Arthur’s eyes than what they had just been speaking about.

“Do you understand the concept enough?” Arthur asked, snapping Alfred’s mind back into focus.

“Yeah, I think so. So, I’m gonna change so that I can become pregnant too? Is that what’s happening?”

Arthur flushed even darker, prompting a pleased hum that never escaped Alfred’s throat. He shook his head. 

“I don’t think so. That would only be the case if you were a beta or an omega… I believe you are becoming an alpha.”

Alfred grinned. “Really? Cool!”

Arthur scowled again. “There is something else you need to know. Alpha, beta, omega… whatever your class is, it has a tendency to affect your personality.”

Alfred frowned slightly. “It does? So is that gonna happen to me?” A spark flashed through Alfred’s mind, and he straightened. “Wait, is that about what happened earlier? When I, um, jumped you? I am sorry about that, by the way.”

Arthur nodded curtly. “It does have something to do with that, I believe. Alphas tend to be… more powerful, and d-dominating. You probably, erm, ‘jumped’ me because you smelled…”

“I did smell something!” Alfred responded, bouncing forward in his seat. “I think it was you… I’ve never met anyone else who smelled so strongly, though - besides Yao. Is he still here?”

“Still here,” came the faint call from the back of the study. “And overhearing every awkward thing you two are saying!”

“Awesome. But the smell - how does that fit into this? Does it fit into this?” Alfred continued.

“Everyone in Cards has a scent,” Arthur said. “It is often an instigator in, erm, attracting a mate. It is also an indicator of many things - some with more sensitive noses can smell when a bond changes a person’s scent. Anyone will notice when a scent changes due to mating. And the more common uses - it is very easy to discern when someone is going into heat or rut.”

Alfred blinked as his mind whirred, attempting to keep up and file away all of the new information.

“What are heat and rut?”

Arthur’s face bloomed the darkest red Alfred had seen it yet - and he actually shrank away from Alfred. “I do not wish to explain that to you.”

Alfred’s eye caught motion behind Arthur and he looked to see Yao approaching them, disapproval in his dark eyes.

“The stench of your attraction is filling the entire room,” Yao complained. “Tone it down. And to answer your question, a heat - for omegas, and a rut, for alphas, are the spaces of time in which the both are most fertile. Ruts are typically triggered by scenting an omega in heat, but they do cycle spontaneously roughly four times a year. Omega’s heats are far more unpredictable. They are different for each omega, and the time between them can range from one month to six.”

After delivering this lengthy speech, Yao slammed the books in his arms onto the desktop. “These are comprehensive logs of Cards, ranging from social to political to economic history and everything in between. If you plan on staying long, you should skim through them at the very least.”

Alfred shook his head. “I don’t really plan on staying long - he began. Arthur interrupted him.

“You will have to,” he said. “Until we figure out where the Doors have gone, you are stuck here. Realistically, you need to understand the basics of our world.”

“Arthur, we should get going. We need to resume our earlier discussions,” Yao said.

“Yes,” Arthur replied, drawing himself together. “Alfred, I must leave you for now. You should find a man named Allistor. He is the head of the staff here in the castle. He can answer any of your questions… and find you some more presentable clothes.”

Alfred looked down at himself. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

Arthur ignored him. “I expect I will see you next at dinner. Until then, try not to get into any trouble. Take a look at those books. A good healthy dose of reading never hurt anyone.”

With that, Arthur stood from his chair. Alfred got a healthy dose of the curve of Arthur’s thighs before he and Yao exited the room. He inhaled slowly, then lowered his head to his hands.

What a mess. Ever since he had gotten here things had been in such a flurry of confusion that Alfred had barely had time to comprehend it all. He was stuck here, in a different world, for an indeterminate amount of time. What would his professor think? What would his brother think?

Alfred groaned at the reminder of Matthew. If his twin ever caught wind of this he would be dead where he stood. Even if Alfred did manage to get back home, Matthew would chew him out so hard he’d start crying again (never happened). 

And how the heck was he supposed to find this Allistor guy? If what Arthur said was true, and they were actually in a castle - castles were huge. He could be anywhere.

Alfred stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. The scent of Arthur still lingered in the air. Reluctantly, Alfred grabbed the books Yao had found and headed out of the study. He had time to snoop around a bit, but he decided against it. He had no idea when dinner would be, and preferred not to miss it. If he did, who knew when he would see Arthur again.

The opposite wall held only one set of doors - a double set in the very center. Alfred tried them and found them unlocked. They led out into a stone hallway laid with a long, navy carpet. Small windows with no glass let in snippets of light at brief intervals. To the left, the hallway ended, or turned, possibly. To the right, it opened into a larger area. Alfred headed that way.

What had first appeared to be a larger room ended up being only a wider corridor that extended to the left and right - perpendicular to the hallway he’d just emerged from. Alfred shook his head. He had no idea where to go.

Luckily, someone else rounded the corner. She was a young looking woman with a white skirt and a pink flower in her hair. Alfred waved to her.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m looking for a man named Allistor, do you have any clue where he would be?”

The girl seemed startled. “Oh! I just spoke with him. Would you like me to take you to him?”

Alfred sighed, relieved. “That would be fantastic,” he said. She gestured to him and they started off in the direction she had come from.

“Are you visiting from Hearts?” the girl asked.

“What?” Alfred asked. He eyed her, confused.

“Oh - I apologize. I assumed, since you are wearing red.”

Alfred glanced down at his red sweatshirt. He was pretty sure if was Matthew’s, actually - as evidenced by the Canadian flag plastered on the front. He must have stolen it at their last sleepover. What was it… Christmas? Two, three years ago?

“This is Allistor’s room. He should still be here,” the girl said. She gestured to a door. “Have a good day, sir!”

“Thanks!” Alfred called. The girl was already flouncing away down the hallway. No doubt she had somewhere to be. Alfred turned and knocked at the door.

“Yeah?”

The door opened to reveal a man, somewhat taller than Arthur, with dark red hair and the same thick eyebrows. Alfred caught the resemblance immediately. That was - he caught it before his face was filled with thick, heavy smoke blown from between Allistor’s lips. Alfred waved it away and attempted to prevent himself from coughing. It didn’t work. Allistor smirked and placed a cigar back into his mouth.

“Hel - ahem - hello. My name is Alfred, I was told to find you and get new clothes or something. Also, smoking - totally not cool.”

Allistor scowled. “Ignore my filthy habits if you don’t like them. You sound like Arthur. Who told you to find me?”

“Arthur,” Alfred responded.

“That’s Queen Arthur to you,” Allistor corrected. “Show some respect. Get in here, I’ll get you primped up.”

Alfred followed Allistor into his room. It was sparsely decorated. Alfred glanced around as Allistor shuffled in a closet, then a wardrobe.

“So what does my little bro care about you, huh?” Allistor asked, emerging from the corner of the room. “Where are you from?”

“He said he wants me to be presentable,” Alfred responded. “I’m, um, not from around here.”

“That is obvious,” Allistor remarked. “Even for a peasant, your speech is atrocious.”

“Huh?” Alfred said. “What’s wrong with the way I talk?”

Allistor gave him a funny look, and blew smoke out into the room once more. “Did you never learn proper speech? How… unfortunate. Here,” he added, throwing some clothes at Alfred. “You can change into those.”

Alfred held out the clothes in front of him - a pale blue button up shirt and a navy vest, with matching slacks. Suddenly, a brighter blue tie dropped on top of the pile.

“You guys are really into blue,” Alfred commented. 

Allistor scoffed. “You must not know anything. Spades’ national color is blue. Everyone here wears it, at least most of the time.”

Alfred looked up at him and shook his head. “Let me let you in on a little secret, buddy. I’m not from here. Like, at all. I don’t know how much you know about other worlds, but I came from one.”

Allistor frowned. “Are you talking about the Doors? Those actually exist?”

Alfred shrugged. “I guess, if you mean the big wooden ones that disappear after you walk through them. But uh, can I get a little privacy? To change?”

Allistor looked him over. “Door closed is as private as you are going to get.”

Alfred frowned and walked over to the door. He shut it. He glanced behind him. Allistor was smirking. A challenge.

With a sigh Alfred lifted his sweatshirt and shirt over his head, and slipped into the button up. He changed his pants as quickly as possible. The vest was the most difficult to get on. He knew how to tie a tie.

Allistor’s voice came from behind him. “These books… histories. You are telling the truth, aren’t you? You are not from here.”

Alfred shrugged his shoulders and then rolled them, stretching the fabric to a comfortable position. He turned to face Allistor.

“Guess not,” he said, and picked up the books.


	2. Two: Castle Spades

Dinner was an interesting ordeal.

 

Arthur and Yao had already settled down to eat in the common hall when Alfred showed up. He was escorted by Allistor - who was smoking one of those nasty cigars. 

 

Alfred cleaned up nicely - not that Arthur would ever admit it. He looked quite sharp in Cards blue. He sent a quick, joyful grin Arthur’s way before sitting across the table. Allistor sat next to him. Arthur wrinkled his nose and pushed a small ashtray towards him. Allistor scowled, propped his feet up on the table, and pushed it away.

 

“Get those feet off the table,” Yao scolded, dead serious. “If you cannot uphold proper manners, even when dining with your brother, I will have you banned from the common hall.”

 

“Ouch, your Grace,” Allistor said, complying to remove his feet from the table. Arthur frowned. Why was it Allistor never listened to him? Likely because he was the younger brother, but still.

 

Alfred leaned forward and caught Arthur’s attention. “Hey, Arthur - or, um, no. Your Highness. I was looking at some of those books you gave me - “

 

“I gave you,” Yao muttered.

 

“- and I was thinking… maybe you could give me a little run down on what’s going on here? Nothing super detailed, I just thought, like woah, you explained the other stuff really well and it made sense, ya know? Would you be willing to help me out?”

 

Arthur looked Alfred over. His eyes shone with a sincere enthusiasm. His face was open, eager. As a probable alpha, Alfred most likely could have ordered Arthur to teach him. He didn’t seem to be as dominant as some others Arthur had met.

 

“What do you want to know?” He managed finally. Yao scoffed slightly - disapproving, no doubt. He was aware of Arthur’s reluctance to accept a mate. He probably felt antagonistic towards Alfred, an alpha whom - no offense intended - was obviously interested. The thought pleased Arthur, he thought shamefully. He missed Alfred’s question in his preoccupation. 

 

“Sorry, what?” he asked. 

 

“What is Spades? Is that where we are?” Alfred repeated.

 

“Yes, it is our country,” Arthur responded. “There are four countries in Cards - Spades, Clubs, Diamonds, and Hearts.”

 

“You’re kidding,” Alfred said. He sounded disbelieving.

 

“Yes,” Arthur said uncertainly. “Why?”

 

“Wait, hold on,” Alfred said. “Are there Kings and Queens too? And Jacks? And… and aces, and jokers, and stuff? Arthur, you’re the queen, so - Yao, you’re the King, right? Is Allistor the Jack?”

 

Allistor burst out laughing. Arthur reached across the table to hit him, though he did smile a bit. “Yao is the Jack. Allistor is our seven. Spades currently does not have a King. But Alfred, let me ask - how in Cards did you know this?”

 

Alfred shook his head, golden locks tossing back and forth. “On Earth, we have a thing called a deck of cards.”

 

Arthur looked over at Yao. “Deck Isle,” he muttered. Yao nodded. 

 

Alfred continued. “It’s used to play games - there are little… cards, um, like little bits of sturdy paper, and there are four suites. Spades, Hearts, Clubs, Diamonds. Each suite has a King, Queen, Jack, Ace, and some numbers. And there are two jokers.”

 

“Interesting,” Yao commented. “It is possible that these… cards were inspired by our world. Perhaps their maker has been here.”

 

Alfred shook his head again. “That’s so weird. So then, the other countries, they have Kings and all that too?”

 

Arthur nodded in affirmation. “Would you like me to tell you about the other countries’ Royal tables?”

 

Alfred nodded. 

 

Arthur took in a breath. “I’ll begin with Hearts. Their King is a man named Ludwig Beilschmidt. I do not know much of him, only that he is stern and quiet, and he cares deeply for his people. The Queen is named Kiku Honda - “

 

“Honda Kiku, if you say it the right way,” Yao said, scowling. Arthur frowned. 

 

“His given name is Kiku, at any rate. He was born here in Spades, and he was good friends with Yao before he left to become Queen.”

 

Alfred raised his hand to catch Arthur's attention. “Are all of the Queens guys?”

 

“No,” Arthur responded. “All of these titles are merely political positions - they can be held by any gender and any class. Shall I continue?” he asked pointedly. 

 

“Right. Sorry,” Alfred said. 

 

“Hearts’ Jack has recently passed on,” Arthur said. “They are looking for a new one currently. Yao, if I may ask you to speak about Diamonds.”

 

Arthur avoided Alfred’s eyes as he questioned, “Why do you have to talk about it?” Yao’s response was simply:

 

“Speaking of The Diamonds’ Court often angers his Highness. Their King is Francis Bonnefoy -”

 

“Bloody frog,” Arthur muttered. Allistor kicked him under the table. Arthur most certainly did NOT kick back. 

 

“Their King is Francis Bonnefoy, a dramatic, extravagant man. He has decent taste in decoration.” Yao ignored Arthur’s scoff. “Their Queen is Lili Zwingli, a sweet girl, though she is very young. Her brother Vash is the Jack.”

 

Arthur waved at Yao. “You can keep going if you want to.”

 

“I would rather not.” 

 

“Ah, yes, I forgot,” Arthur said. “Clubs’ King, Ivan Braginsky, is the only man Yao fears - “

 

“He is not!” Yao protested, voice raising in both volume and pitch. His face grew flushed in anger and embarrassment. “I fear no man.”

 

Arthur ignored this statement, instead choosing to lean conspiratorially towards Alfred. “Ivan has shown some interest in Yao at Deck meetings. No one knows if it is for romantic or political reasons. Yao is terrified of him.”

 

“I am not,” Yao insisted. “If you will excuse me, I have work to do, aru.” At this small admission, Yao scowled even more and covered his mouth with a hand obscured by his large sleeves. 

 

“Good evening,” Yao said. He bowed shallowly and left the room swiftly. 

 

Arthur shook his head. “He is so easy to tease,” he said. “I will apologize to him later. But to wrap up our conversation - Clubs’ queen is Elizabeta Hedervary, and the Jack is her husband, Roderich Edelstein.”

 

“Their last names are different?” Alfred questioned. 

 

“They chose to keep their surnames separate for political reasons,” Arthur explained. “Both were already well known to the public when they married.”

 

Arthur downed the last bit of water in his glass and pushed his chair back from the table. 

 

“Pardon, I must go see where Yao has gone. He agreed to work with me this evening. Alfred, I hope you have a good evening. Allistor,” he dismissed. He swept out of the room.

 

Once he did find Yao, the two did their best to discern where the Doors had gone - to no avail. Arthur nearly fell asleep where he sat, prompting Yao to send him off to bed and continue the research alone. However, Arthur found that once in his bed he could not sleep. He rose an hour later and resorted to pacing around the entryway to the Royal Quarters.

 

At some point - he wasn’t certain what prompted him to do it - he approached the center of the room and tugged the large rug aside. Underneath lay a trapdoor that creaked when he opened it.

 

A door opened behind Arthur and he heard Yao’s voice.

 

“You are supposed to be sleeping,” Yao said softly.

 

“I know,” Arthur said. “I will only be a minute.”

 

Yao retreated into his study. He understood Arthur - sometimes. He respected his late night habits, at the least. Going down to the center of Spades always soothed his anxieties.

 

Arthur descended down the staircase. When he reached the room, he let out a breath and relaxed his shoulders. 

 

The room was large, supported by many columns. Royal treasures hung from the wall and rested on pedestals. The scepter of the Queen itself was caught on two small hooks on the far wall, in between the King’s sword and the Jack’s staff. These symbols of power were only brought out in times of great celebration or great need. Some said they carried magic. Arthur had only ever touched his scepter once, but he knew these claims were true. He felt the magic thunder through his body. The echoes haunted him even now. 

 

The room itself held traces of magic. The gazing pool in the center, usually just a pretty bit of decoration, sometimes took upon itself to show visions or prophecies in times of great need. 

 

Arthur looked into the pool. It was clear and absolutely still. He believed it was likely what most soothed him about this room. The water was serene, wise, strong. It seemed untouchable. It was a reminder of what Arthur himself wished to be. 

 

The water was clear. Until it wasn’t.

 

Arthur startled backwards. He’d seen this happen only once before. The water before him grew cloudy, spreading until the entire pool was opaque. The water flickered, shivered. A blurry image appeared - one that Arthur couldn’t make out. He would have to enter the water in order to truly see it.

 

“Yao!” he called. “Yao, a vision! The pool!”

 

From above, Arthur heard the light quick footsteps of Yao as he ran down to join Arthur. He swirled to a stop by his side, breathless.

 

“I wanted to wait until you were here,” Arthur said. Yao simply nodded and gestured forward, his eyes never leaving the pool. Doubtless he somehow saw the images more clearly than Arthur. He seemed receptive to things like that.

 

The two stepped forward together, but before their feet touched the water, their surroundings were transformed.

 

It was hazy, disconnected, almost. However, the setting was clear enough: the main courtyard of the castle. It was decorated lavishly, for some sort of celebration. Arthur turned, suddenly enclosed by hundreds of people in all shapes, sizes, and colors. Yao held fast to Arthur’s arm as the intangible masses shifted around them. 

 

Yao pointed to where everyone was looking. “There,” he said. “Look.”

 

So Arthur looked. 

 

It was Alfred. Standing before the crowd, in white and gold, a crown lowering towards his head, held by Arthur himself - 

 

And here came the part Arthur hated most. With a disorienting tug he blinked and abruptly there he was, holding the crown and placing it on Alfred. The crowd cheered. At some point he became aware that Yao was no longer present - that he had left the pool altogether. That was the point in which all of the colors swirled together into one mass and expanded into a new setting. 

 

Alfred looked more real than he had yet in this vision - the water must be drawing referential images from Arthur’s memories. For some reason, Alfred seemed more handsome than ever as he took Arthur’s hands, bouncing nervously -

 

What was happening? Arthur looked around, confused, to see another colorful crowd and more decorations - but what celebratory event was this?

 

Arthur turned back to look the other way, and that’s when he saw the marriage arbor.

 

He exited the pool thrashing and spilling water everywhere, though the liquid gathered back into the whole and stilled far more quickly than seemed possible. Yao helped him out, supporting him as he regained his breath. Neither of the two were wet.

 

“Did something happen? Did something happen after I left?” Yao questioned. His own face seemed flustered. Arthur shook his head, gasping while he searched his mind for an appropriate excuse.

 

“I apologize,” he said. “I do not like being in there on my own so when I realized you were gone, I panicked.”

 

“Understandable,” Yao accepted, though Arthur caught a glimpse of suspicion in his eyes. “Come, let us return upstairs. I believe we have things to discuss.”

 

Arthur followed Yao back up into the main room, where they seated themselves in comfortable, plush couches. Yao seemed uncharacteristically shaken. Perhaps he also had seen something in the pool that was startling to him.

 

The two sat in anxious, pondering solitude for several minutes, allowing their minds to process what they had seen.

 

“We both know what we saw,” Yao said softly. “Regardless of what came after we were separated, it is undeniable. Alfred… is to be the next King of Spades.”

 

Arthur shook his head and closed his eyes. “How is this possible,” he questioned. “Alfred has only just arrived here. He still needs to return home.”

 

Arthur heard the deep, long-suffering sigh of Yao beside him. “He cannot leave, now. The vision was clear. We will simply have to convince him to stay.”

 

Arthur mulled this over for a moment. He was then struck with a sudden idea. “Where did you go when we were separated? Did you see anything that could help us?”

 

Yao’s face grew red as a heart under Arthur’s gaze. He shook his head. “I remember watching as you lowered the crown to Alfred’s head. After that, I… I left the pool.”

 

Arthur hummed, suspicious. He had no time to question Yao further, however. Instead, Yao questioned him.

 

“What did you see? After I left. It seemed to have shaken you.” 

 

Arthur stared at him for a brief moment, taken aback. He averted his eyes. “Nothing really.”

 

Yao hummed and eyed Arthur. He pursed his lips.

 

Yao sighed and stood. “It seems that for now, we will have to work with what has been given to us,” he said. “It has been a long day. We both need rest.”

 

Arthur nodded, but he didn’t lift his eyes from the carpet. After a moment, he heard the sound of Yao’s quiet footsteps fading into the night.


	3. Three: Castle Spades

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently part way into writing chapter four, and I just compared the word count of this one and the original, based on how far I am plotwise... this one is roughly 5000 words longer so far... hopefully thats a good thing haha

As the days passed and the month turned to June, Alfred resigned himself to a longer stay in Cards. As much as he hated the thought of being stuck, he had no choice but to acclimate himself to the new culture.

 

The most apparent struggle for him was handling the change in his biology. He was becoming stronger, more agile, less clumsy - but also losing a certain amount of control over his thoughts. And oftentimes, when his thoughts got too carried away, his body followed.

 

He managed to avoid more instances of practically assaulting Arthur, but there were several close calls. Eventually he realized that it would be easiest for him to stay a safe distance away from others (especially Arthur) and to breathe through his mouth whenever possible and polite to do so. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but it was better than nothing.

 

There wasn’t much he could do to avoid Arthur completely - though he likely had plenty to do as a Queen, he also took it upon himself as much as possible to educate Alfred on the details of Cards. The pair had made quick progress through a series of basic textbooks on the history of the different countries and were now beginning to get into the finer details of government, economics, and the social dynamics between the countries. As Alfred learned each new fact, day by day, he felt it slot into a place in his mind with a satisfying click - as though it had meant to be there all along.

 

Alfred and Arthur had settled in one of the many libraries in the castle for today’s studies.

 

“When I became Queen, I inherited the position,” Arthur said. “But that is not the only way to join the Royal Court. In fact, it is one of the least common ways.”

 

Alfred leaned forward intently, doing his best not to miss a single word. He, unfortunately, had to restrict his breathing so close to Arthur, but he was slowly getting a handle on learning to control his nose.

 

Arthur faltered for a moment, causing Alfred to tilt his head curiously, before he pulled himself together and continued. 

 

“You can be inducted without any family history in the Court,” Arthur said. “You can even be inducted from the lower social classes of Cards, though it is looked down upon somewhat more.”

 

Alfred’s gaze hardened. “Why?” he asked.

 

Arthur’s eyes softened somewhat, which eased Alfred’s tension. “I personally try not to hold any bias against the common folk,” he said. “But many believe that as they were not born into this world, they do not belong in it. As if they cannot learn proper etiquette,” Arthur scoffed.

 

Alfred nodded in approval. “Like I’m learning right now,” he supplied.

 

Arthur hesitated for a moment, and Alfred wondered if he’d said something wrong. Arthur shook his head slowly.

 

“Technically, you are not learning etiquette, but the idea is similar. We should probably get started on that soon,” Arthur muttered, turning to jot something down in the notebook beside him.

 

“Well, there’s no rush,” Alfred said with a golden smile, trying to soothe Arthur. “We’ve got all of the time in the world, right, Your Highness?”

 

Arthur shook his head once more, though a small smile played around his lips, and Alfred could tell he was pleased. He preened slightly, unable to help himself.

 

“Let us return to the topic on hand,” Arthur prompted. “Though anyone can join the Royal Court, they have to prove themselves capable of holding the position, and have to go through a good amount of training. The position of the Jack is somewhat more accessible, and often depends on the King and Queen’s personal decisions.”

 

Alfred lowered his chin into his hand, content to settle back into his comfortable position with Arthur’s voice floating through his mind.

 

Later in the day, as Alfred and Arthur were taking a tea break (one of the most important breaks of the day, Arthur assured him), Yao entered the library. He strode forward to place a number of scrolls down on a desk and called out to Arthur.

 

“Have you told him yet?” Yao asked.

 

Arthur tensed, and Alfred glanced between the two curiously. “No,” Arthur responded.

 

“He needs to know,” was all Yao said. Arthur remained silent. Alfred continued looking at the both of them, attempting to puzzle out what they were talking about.

 

Arthur sighed and the tension flowed out of him in a second. He ran his hand through his hair, a frustrated look screwing up his face. Yao looked at him after a moment.

 

“If you do not wish to tell him, I can -” he began.

 

“No,” Arthur interrupted,” No, I’ll… aces. Okay. Alfred, erm… do you believe in magic? Like, seeing the future?”

 

Alfred blinked, perplexed. Then his mind caught up with the words and his body wasn’t far behind. He leaned forward eagerly.

 

“Are you telling me you can see the future? That’s totally cool, man!” Alfred enthused. Arthur seemed taken aback by his sudden outburst, but Alfred was too excited to reign himself in. Before he had the chance to ask more questions, Arthur cut him off.

 

“Not exactly. That is, it does not quite work that way.” Arthur said. “Yao and I have a method of seeing visions of the future, though we do not choose when to see them, rather, they come to us every once in a while. Usually only to foretell very important events, and they’re often unclear -” Arthur broke off and his face flushed darker suddenly. He avoided Alfred’s eyes. “Nevertheless, we received a vision some time ago… regarding you.”

 

Alfred’s breath caught. A vision… about him? But didn’t Arthur just say that those visions were only about important things?

 

“Why?” he asked. His mind was too hectic to voice any of his more specific questions.

 

Arthur shared an uneasy glance with Yao. “The vision showed us your coronation, Alfred. It showed you being crowned as King of Spades.”

 

Alfred felt like the very atoms of his being had frozen in place. He could only sit, staring at Arthur and Yao like a fool, trying to process what he had just been told. He attempted to swallow, to shake his head, do  _ anything _ \- what snapped him out of it in the end was Arthur’s hand on his shoulder.

 

“Alfred, are you alright?” Arthur questioned. All of the sudden Alfred unfroze once more and shuddered, taking in a deep, gasping breath. He shook his head frantically.

 

“No, you’re - that can’t be right, you’re wrong, I’m not a king! What… how… I…” Alfred’s words fizzled out and his hands grasped desperately at nothing.

 

Yao moved forward to sit at Alfred’s side.

 

“Arthur and I have discussed this in depth, and as the month changed to June we have been tracking your progress. We have decided that we would like to crown you as our King, if you will accept.”

 

Alfred shook his head, words spilling out of his mouth like lava. “No, I - you’ve got the wrong guy, I can’t be a king, I don’t even know how I got here or anything -”

 

“Alfred,” Arthur interrupted, his voice softer than usual. His eyes caught Alfred’s, a sea of green, olive and jade and emerald. Alfred stilled.

 

“There is no one else,” Arthur said simply. Alfred’s eyes were locked on Arthur’s, helpless.

 

“How am I supposed to be a King when I’m not even from here? I’m supposed to be going home, I - I have a brother, I have -” Alfred choked, struggling to find the words.

 

Arthur simply nodded. “We cannot force you to stay, but we hope you will. Spades cannot manage without a King forever, especially not with tensions rising between the countries.”

 

Alfred frowned. “Is there going to be a war?” he asked. Arthur hesitated to respond. 

 

“At this point, no one really knows what will happen,” he said. “We can give you some time to think it over, but you will need to make your decision quickly.” As he spoke, Arthur made a movement as if to rise. 

 

“Wait,” Alfred said, reaching out. The skin of Arthur’s wrist was soft under his hand and he swallowed the sudden temptation to pull Arthur closer. “How long do you think it would take to find the doors that brought me here?”

 

Yao responded before Arthur could, effectively reminding Alfred that he was observing every move he made. Alfred dropped Arthur’s wrist and pulled back. 

 

“That remains unclear. We are uncertain whether to contact other members of the table to ask for its whereabouts, as we are similarly uncertain of how secretive we should keep your situation. Once we locate the doors, it could be easy for you to leave, depending on where they are.”

 

Alfred hesitated, contemplating his options. “Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, that I accepted your offer and became king. I would still have to leave eventually. I don’t belong here.”

 

“That is a matter of opinion,” Yao muttered. Alfred's head snapped towards him. 

 

“What?”

 

Yao’s face darkened slightly, but he narrowed his eyes and raised his chin, likely out of a mix of pride and embarrassment. “You have learned our customs remarkably quickly. I find it intriguing that you seem to have adapted quite naturally to our country.”

 

Alfred frowned. “Still, I was born on earth. I have family there. I’m attending college. Am I supposed to just drop all of that and forget it ever happened?”

 

Arthur turned to Yao and questioned him with a lower voice Alfred had to strain slightly to hear. “Can he leave once he has become King? I do not know how any of this works.”

 

“It would be ill advised,” Yao sighed. “But possible.”

 

“So if I help you guys for a while,” Alfred began, “you’ll help me find the doors that will take me back to my world?”

 

“I believe that is agreeable,” Yao said. “So, Alfred. Will you accept our request? Will you become the next King of Spades?”

 

Despite his apprehension, Alfred could recognize a solemn moment when it presented itself. He met Yao’s eyes directly and ignored the pounding of his heart. They needed him, right? They needed a hero to help keep the country stable. Alfred closed his hands into tight fists so no one would see how they shook.

 

“I will.”

 

Yao nodded, and Alfred saw a small hint of approval in his eyes before he turned away. “I shall begin organizing preparations immediately,” he said. “We should hold the coronation sometime next week, I believe.”

 

Next week? Yao must have seen the alarmed look on Alfred’s face, for he paused before exiting the room. “Do not stress yourself. You need not know everything to running a kingdom by the coronation, only the basics of how to behave and knowledge of our current relations with the other countries. You will be fine.”

 

Alfred swallowed hard and accepted this. The door swung open and shut silently.

 

Alfred finally glanced back at Arthur. He paused at the strange look on Arthur’s face, but once the queen saw him looking, he cleared his throat and looked down. Odd. 

 

Arthur rose from his chair and nodded to Alfred, though he still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Perhaps consider reading through the next chapters in your text,” he suggested. “You can get a head start on our next lesson. For now, I will leave you.”

 

Alfred nodded slowly and watched as Arthur left the room.

 

Despite what Arthur had said, their next lesson never came. Arthur became busy with preparing for Alfred’s upcoming coronation, and delegated the task of teaching him to his brothers, Allistor, Dylan, and Seamus.

 

Dylan was the youngest. He was friendly and… for lack of a better term, soft. He was a little mischievous and enjoyed teasing Alfred as much as teaching, but everything he did - speaking, smiling, moving - was all, in some indefinable way, gentle. It was a good thing that Dylan was teaching Alfred etiquette, and not one of the other two.

 

Alfred liked Dylan much better than the other two.

 

Seamus was the second oldest - Arthur was between him and Dylan in age. If Arthur was prim and easily embarrassed, if Dylan was kind and relaxed, then Seamus was… flat. He showed little emotion other than frustration and annoyance. He spoke little of matters besides what he was supposed to be teaching Alfred - history. Alfred knew next to nothing about him.

 

Allistor was the oldest, and he was a piece of work, to put it lightly. Alfred had met him before, upon his initial arrival in Cards. His impression of Allistor was not all that impressive and their subsequent meetings did little to improve Alfred’s opinion.

 

To put it bluntly: Allistor seemed as though he’d be just as likely to fuck Alfred as he would be to teach him on any given day.

 

It was pretty uncomfortable.

 

Though Arthur’s brothers were  _ unique _ , Alfred did learn a decent amount from them. Dylan brutally corrected Alfred’s posture in a way that reminded him, heartachingly, of Matthew. Cards’ history was interesting enough that Seamus’ flat delivery did nothing to inhibit his learning. Allistor… he and Alfred managed. There wasn’t too much to current events - once Allistor had told Alfred the basics, their time mostly consisted of Alfred shooting questions his way and Allistor providing answers and advice.

 

Allistor told him that the four countries in Cards made up a whole, but they weren’t always harmonious. Spades represented power, Hearts love, Diamonds wealth, and Clubs fortune. Season by season, power and influence shifted from one country to another - autumn corresponded to Spades, and power multiplied upon power resulted in… quite a lot of power. Hearts’ season was winter, which seemed counterintuitive to Alfred, but Allistor explained that rather than being placed in the season most commonly associated with passion, Hearts was given the season in which the world would perhaps need more love. 

 

After thinking about it a while, Alfred supposed it made sense. In a poetic sort of way.

 

Diamonds was spring.

 

Not much else to say there.

 

Clubs corresponded with summer, which again seemed backwards to Alfred. From what he’d learned from Seamus and Arthur, before, Clubs was a cold, wintry place. Maybe they needed some more sun there, and that’s why their season was summer. Maybe people needed more good luck in summer. Alfred wasn’t sure why. Maybe it would have something to do with the growing season? Wealth in spring, so you have plenty of seeds to plant, and fortune in summer, so that a healthy crop is ready for autumn? Then the power to collect all the food and the power that it gave to its owners would be apparent. And love would come in winter, a time of rest and celebration (and eating the food).

 

This was a rather extensive metaphor that Alfred had not meant to get caught up in. He was getting philosophical.

 

Must be Arthur’s influence.

 

And speaking of Arthur… Alfred missed him. Missed him with every fiber of his being. For nearly the entire week before Alfred’s coronation Arthur was nowhere to be found - or at least, nowhere that Alfred could find. He was always busy doing this or that. Once, Alfred thought they would have a moment to finally relax and see each other, but just as Arthur sat down, a messenger arrived with news of some other task he would need to see to, right away. Arthur had simply given Alfred an apologetic look and whisked away.

 

Alfred had growled to the empty library.

 

The day before the coronation, though, Alfred finally got to see Arthur again.

 

He was on a balcony overlooking the main courtyard. Below him, people bustled around like busy ants, setting up last minute preparations for the arrival of representatives from the other countries. Alfred was about to announce himself, but suddenly Arthur stiffened and turned around to see him.

 

“Alfred,” he said. Alfred took a breath, intending to respond, but the scent of Arthur wafted over him and he found himself rendered both speechless and helpless. His eyes fluttered shut.

 

“Alfred?” Arthur questioned. His voice was so, so soft…

 

“Don’t move,” Alfred whispered. Immediately an anxious note filtered into Arthur’s scent, and Alfred frowned.

 

“Is something wrong?” Arthur said. His voice was sharper now. Worried.

 

Alfred opened his eyes and shook his head. It took him a moment to gather his words, as Arthur watched.

 

“Nothing’s wrong, I just… It’s nice seeing you,” he said. He flushed slightly at the admission. Arthur’s eyes widened.

 

“I see,” he said, uncertain. “Would you like to stand with me for a while?”

 

“Yeah,” Alfred said. He drifted closer to the railing, and to Arthur. Standing there, watching the world, with Arthur by his side, he felt more relaxed than he had for the past week.

 

“You are surprisingly calm,” Arthur observed.

 

“You make me calm,” Alfred said. A choked noise came from Arthur and Alfred looked at him, concerned.

 

“You - you cannot just say things like that,” Arthur spluttered.

 

“Why not? It’s true,” Alfred said.

 

“It is not polite,” Arthur protested. He avoided Alfred’s eyes.

 

“I don’t consider it polite to lie, either,” Alfred said. He refused to look away until Arthur met his gaze.

 

“Whatever,” Arthur muttered, face flushed brightly.

 

Alfred finally looked out into the sky.

 

Some time passed before he felt prompted to speak again.

 

“It’s probably way too late to say this,” Alfred laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “But, uh… I don’t really think you guys are making the right choice. About, you know. Me being King.”

 

In his peripheral vision Alfred saw Arthur turn his head, but ignored the inquisitive glance.

 

“I don’t know anything about ruling a country,” he continued. “I don’t know what my responsibilities are or how to handle them. I don’t know if I can make decisions that could affect the livelihood of hundreds, thousands, millions of people.”

 

“You should not have to worry about that last one,” Arthur said. “There are only roughly five million people in Cards.”

 

Alfred started, but shook his head. “That’s not the point,” he said angrily. At Arthur’s surprised flinch, he apologized. “I’m sorry, but… this is way too much responsibility for just a regular joe from America, you know?”

 

Arthur frowned. “I thought your name was Alfred.”

 

“It is! It’s just an expression. But do you get my point?”

 

Arthur looked down, to the courtyard. “I do,” he admitted quietly.

 

Alfred faced forward again as well.

 

“And that’s not even taking into consideration my… that… well, after all of this, after everything… as soon as we find those Doors I’m gonna be outta here.”

 

Arthur stiffened by his side. When Alfred looked over at him, he had grown as cold as the stone they stood upon.

 

“What?” Alfred said. “You and I both know it’s true, don’t deny it. I don’t…” Alfred’s voice broke. “I don’t belong here.”

 

Arthur faced Alfred head on, and when he spoke, his voice was sharper than thin ice and twice as dangerous.

 

“I was aware that you would have to leave eventually,” he said. “I did not know that you would lack such sensitivity regarding the matter. Do you have a single thought as to my position in all of this? Yao and I are the only ones who saw the vision of your coronation. Despite the fact that Yao himself was a witness to the magic, he quietly disapproves of your crowning. Our citizens have faith that we will not abuse their trust. I alone am supporting you, and I alone will take on the consequences of your actions. Do you spare a single thought for me and my people? Do you care that when you leave, our country will be torn apart once again? Do you care that I need -”

 

Arthur broke off and took several quick steps away. Alfred stared at him in shock. 

 

But Arthur was quicker at gathering himself than Alfred was. He said over his shoulder:

 

“We will be fine, when you leave, Alfred. We will manage as we always have. But it would be kind of you to at least consider minimizing the damage you will cause in your absence.”

 

Alfred stared after Arthur as he strode away, and his long blue coat snapped around the corner. 


End file.
